Thirty years ago, the township of Little Twister was very unlike the small one-horse town that it had become during Filgaia's dying days, the wasting days, the time when the land had seemed to spiral down into a barren wasteland hell. Back then, it has been surrounded by short grass clipped plains and flatlands as far as the eye could see, with the edge of the Westwood forest to the east, like dark scary shadows upon a pale blue horizon. Further west was the shoreline and a wide beach carrying a small fishing industry, importing their goods from the sea. Little Twister was a much larger town as well, separated into four major districts and labeled by the four directions of the compass, north, south, east and west. The town was racially categorized into these four areas as well, whether it be a subconscious decision or not. At the very center of these four sectors was the marketplace, and that was the hub of the entire town, a meeting ground free of district and cultural preferences.

It was a hard place to live however, and for those who had no family or home to go to, it was the coldness of Little Twister that took their lives away. Some got lucky and managed to sell themselves into slavery in order to be bought and adequately looked after, as slavery was still quite legal in those times, but others who wished to keep their human rights and dignity lived like rats on the street, scratching out a meager existence from the scraps left from the more fortunate. Pickpockets and thieves were overly common in the town, but the most talented and skilled of thieves were never caught often enough to be labeled one, and could walk the streets without another's eyes upon them.

Those who robbed the rich and gave to themselves sometimes banded together in order to gain protection and companionship, and at times, even helped each other. It was becoming more common for teams of pickpockets to commit their crimes in more organised ways, building off their strengths and hiding their weaknesses. In rare cases, these teams of thieves fought one another for their territory, for their pride, or even for their honor. In the southern district of Little Twister, there was only one gang of children who had managed to survive thus far and live in relative comfort. They were small in comparison to other groups, bearing only five real members, but each one of them was individually talented and geared to their job. All of them knew how to thieve. All of them knew how to fight. And all of them were infants ripped from the cradle to be submerged in an adult's job, and in an adult's world.

First came Manna, and was a young girl of near pure blooded Baskar decent and origin. Her skin was the colour of light brown sugar and her hair was long and slightly thick, a shade much darker than a regular brown or bronze, like deep ancient wood. Her eyes were intense and black, like polished stones. She was a fairly plump girl as well, bearing a noticeable chubbiness that made her look cute, but certainly not unattractive, something that caused the boys to call her 'Cream Puff' when she was in a good mood, and 'Carmilla' when she was upset, the name derivative from Carmilla the Bloody Countess, a fearful mythological figure from folklore. She had drifted to Little Twister after he entire family had been killed by a band of roving bandits, and her ability to look after the younger children had become greatly appreciated by the other Black Shucks. Though she was only little, she was an indispensable member of the team.

Iyosuke was usually her chief responsibility, being the oldest of the younger group of children. They really didn't have any idea on where he had come from, he had only turned up one day crying his eyes out in front of the Black Shuck headquarters last year, and Iyosuke himself was too young to even remember where or who he was supposed to be. He did have an awe-filled reverence for battle of any variety, and one day he wanted to be a powerful warrior, for real. Clive had made him a wooden sword because of this, and he tried to beat up his older gang members playfully whenever he got the chance. His nickname was 'LD', which was an abbreviation of the words 'Little Dude', because that was what his good friend Mongo saw him as.

Mongo's birth name was Andrew, a largish boy from Guardians knows where. He had no last name, in fact, he had said so on many different occasions that who needed so many different names when one was clearly enough? Despite this, the others liked to call him 'Mongo' for reasons unclear. Nobody could remember who had made up the nickname and had given it to him, but Andrew seemed to like it and that was good enough for all. He had the physical build that would suggest that in about twenty or so years, with the right kinds of training, he'd make a name for himself as the local strong man, or another similar profession. Even for a little nine year old, he was still pretty strong for his age. Ravendor would have said that this came from Andrew's grossly unequal values of brawn and brains, but he never said anything openly about it, for fear of being beaten ungracefully into the ground.

Ravendor, AKA Swanky Begucci was a young runaway from the distant land of Sunset Peak, and both the second-in-command and operations manager in the Black Shuck Gang. Basically, the Boss made up the plans, and Ravendor was the one charged to put them into practice. He was supposed to be the son of some nobleman up north, and he looked and sounded a lot like one, but he also strangely denied his past and claimed to be Clive's blood brother instead. His appearance always seemed to lean slightly towards the feminine, which sometimes caused small mix-ups with strangers thinking him a girl, but it could also be seen that he was going to be a very handsome person in the distant future. Ravendor was probably one of the weirdest ones of the bunch, second only to Clive himself.

And Clive Winslett was the big cheese, the grand master, the guiding hand, founder and leader of the Black Shuck Gang, at the tender age of maybe six or seven years old. For a child, he was overflowing with street smarts, common sense and a brilliant strategic mind, one that was astonishingly advanced for a young boy of his age. He was a little sprightly wisp of a boy with longish mop-like hair and crystal clear blue eyes, and when he smiled it was like he didn't have a single sin in the world. It was he who had formulated the Black Shuck Gang under the permission of a larger adult gang that inhabited the same area as themselves, and it could easily be conceived that nobody in his gang could have ever survived in the township of Little Twister without Clive's help.

His real name was Missanga, a title handed to him for two equally important reasons. The name itself was a short incantation used to bolster one's luck, an old tradition from long ago, given by the last group of people he had stayed with, as they had been a group of outlaws that had considered the small boy to be their good luck charm. Before the group had been captured, shot and killed, Clive had lived with them happily, like some kind of mascot. Even after he was left alone again, the name continued to stick. He liked it, anyway. The second reason was because Clive himself wore a missanga around his neck, something he had owned for as far back as he could remember. It was, in a way, his own personal good luck charm and a link to whatever world he was supposed to belong in.

The gang itself was named after the legendary beast known as the black shuck, a monster dog or wolf that stood at the same height as a small horse with pitch black fur and eyes like smoldering coals, a demon in disguise. Some said that the black shuck was really the devil himself, and looking a shuck in the eyes was supposed to sign one's own death warrant, causing them to die in exactly one year's time. The Black Shuck Gang dominated all other childish gangs in the southern side of the town, and they inhabited a small dormitory area near the main road of the town. It was most likely to have been the living quarters of some kind of school a long time ago, which was enough room for all of them and then some.

The dormitory was old, shabby and seemingly deserted on the outside, discarded shells standing firm in the breeze. The doors and windows were boarded up so that it would be impossible to get in without having to tear a goodly section of the wall down, and it was generally left to look that way to discourage people from entering. True entry came from the south, via an alleyway created by a weapon and a candy store, long and narrow and not looking like it led to anywhere significantly important. All other alleyways that led to the dormitory were barricaded by heavy empty crates taken from the marketplace and stacked tightly against each other to form a wall, before they were filled to the brim with sand. It was just as strong, and just as impervious as a real brick wall.

There were four dorm buildings in all, three fairly large ones in comparison to a tinier forth one that wasn't much bigger than a tool shed. They formed a protective L shape around a patch of short scrubby grass, dirt and a bit of cobbled pavement, the tool shed placed diagonally across from the corner of the L shaped area. The pavement was marked by white lines of chalk, crisscrossing in places and forming boxes and things; basic games for children who knew and understood the rules. There were sticks all over the ground and leaning up against the buildings themselves, and on this side of the area the doors were unlocked and open because this side was much safer and more trusted, like an oasis in the middle of a parched desert. Glinting, the windows were clear and reflected the young morning light in it's pale murky glass, creating a fresh shine.

The three dorm rooms were separated from each other depending on gender and age. The boy dorm was the biggest and was at the most southern part of the area and stood directly across from the tool shed, making up a complete wall of the courtyard. Andrew, Ravendor and Clive lived there peacefully, with plenty of space to spare, so they never got in each other's way. It was obviously not the cleanest place, with clothes and toys and other things thrown all over the place, but it also made it seem like it was well lived in, friendly and warm.

The second dorm room was just for girls and was protected on either side by other buildings, creating the crook of the L shaped building formation. This place was decidedly nicer and tidier on the inside and a small batch of flowers grew on the outside, the beginnings of a pretty flower garden. Manna had total domination over this dorm and was it's supreme overlord without question, not even Clive could enter without a lot of screaming and having an assortment of things hurled directly at his head. Simply put, - you had to be a girl to come in.

The final dorm was specially set up to cater to a small group of homeless children that were temporarily being kept there at the gang's goodwill, or at least for as long as they could properly afford it. This areas was a lot like an orphanage in a way, a gathering of children aged from infants to about four years old. Iyosuke was the eldest of this grouping and lived there too. Whenever the gang had either food or money, it was the littlest kids that always ate first, and the higher up on rank one was, the later on one would have to eat, unless one felt like stealing from others. It was a lot like children playing house with no parents, or like kids trying frantically to put a chaotic world into some semblance of proper order. It was sad in a way, but also tremendously courageous.

It was an unspoken rule that any gang that left their territory was on their own and vulnerable to the dominant gang in that area. Children usually stayed in their designated area unless they were looking for a fight, in which case they usually found one with ease. It was not uncommon for a child to get seriously hurt or even killed in this way, so territorial dispute and underlying laws were both needed and paramount. Little Twister was not a place for children, and nowhere was safe. But this was the world that they lived in, and it was the world that they had come to accept. They could do nothing else except try to survive.

And Clive had always said that; 'What was the point of survival if you didn't get to have fun along the way?' This was the Black Shuck mantra. Live at all costs, but make sure you have fun with it too. They could keep their childhood intact as long as they remembered this one little piece of truth.

Have fun.

xxx

A normal day for the Black Shuck Gang started early for most, at the very break of the sun, rising over the vast plain-like land that bore the frontier town. Clive Winslett always woke at this time in a nearly impossibly peppy mood, dressed quickly and ate whatever he could possibly find for breakfast, then he went and dragged his older brother out of bed with a small amount of difficulty and pesky annoyance, as he liked to sleep in a lot. Clive then went outside and did his morning exercises in the small sunny courtyard, which involved stretches and a lot of running around. Manna and Andrew usually were capable of waking up themselves at the proper time, and by the time Ravendor was staggering out of his room and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Manna had already woken up the rest of the younger children and had ushered them outside to meet up with Clive, who expanded his exercise routine to involve the other kids. This was a regular morning for them, getting ready for a brand new day.

"Uhnnnnnnn… You need to stop waking me before seven…" Groaned Ravendor to Clive as he threw the wooden bucket into the well near the corner of the courtyard and waited to hear the expected splash of water from below. It came and he began to crank the wheel to retract the rope attached to the bucket, bearing the co-ordination and grace of somebody who was still half-asleep. He hauled the bucket up and splashed some water on his face, then he rubbed it away with the front of his pajama top, pinching his cheeks afterwards to wake himself up a little more. Grabbing a small cup resting by the well and filling it with the water bucket, he had a deep drink and then wet his face again, repeating the drying motion.

Clive was holding one arm up and stretching himself to the right, putting tension on one side of his body and leg. A few of the young children were imitating him, including Iyosuke. One of them fell over on the bottom and sat there with a bewildered blinking look in their eyes. Switching sides, Clive smiled brightly, watching some of the non-participating playing their own preferred games. "C'mon Swanks," Clive chirped with his little forest sprite-like grin, "The early bird gets the worm, right? If you sleep in all mornin' you'll never be as quick witted as I am. Besides, you took so long that I got impatient and ate your breakfast." Ravendor was about to say something about that but Clive had not finished speaking yet. "Hey, I told ya the early bird gets the worm. No worms for you today, bird boy." He laughed at his joke and knelt as one of the youngest girls tried to toddle into his arms, leaning backwards and sitting down on the ground. Clive returned the hug she was giving him and laughed again.

The older boy skulked away, going back to his room to change out of his pajamas. "Why do you always have to do that?" He grumbled as he opened the door, disappearing inside. It always took at least an hour for Ravendor to fully return from the land of sleep, so Clive didn't pay any serious attention to his older brother's grumpy mood. Instead, he put the little girl he was cuddling down and set her on her feet, picking up a long wooden stick that was leaning against the building. He shifted his hand around until he got a good grip on it and then he grinned, turning to Andrew who was tying his shoes on the other side of the small courtyard. He was still trying to get his head around turning the two laces into an adequate knot. He eventually succeeded and managed to create something that vaguely resembled a bow, smiling at his work.

"Hey Andy," Clive called as the other boy got to his feet, "Feel like a sparring match? Oh no, wait. I mean a rematch, 'cause I beat your ass yesterday!" It had been fun and easy too, because Andrew was big and clumsy while Clive was quick and agile. Sure, he could be taken out with one simple hit, but nobody had ever been fast enough to hit him before, which was nothing but a boost to his pride-filled ego. Clive tossed his light stick into the air, let it make one full rotation, then caught it effortlessly on the other end. He did this a few times, waiting for an answer.

"I'm gonna take you out." The larger boy jeered playfully, picking up a stick of his own. It was thicker than the other one, but not as long. It felt a little heavy, but not as much as to hinder him at all. Switching the weapon to his left hand, as the boy was left-handed, Andrew leant down and got into a battle stance. "First one to scream loses, right? No low blows this time." Clive giggled, remembering the day before. He had seen an opening and he took it, much to Andrew's disdain. Before they began, however, they removed all the little kids out of their battle area, so now they had space and a crowd to watch. Iyosuke seemed to be on Andrew's side, according to the little boy's chants, but most of the girls were cheering for Clive. Manna was silent, almost brooding. Andrew smiled. "Show me yer stuff!" He cried.

And the battle began.

Clive waited and let Andrew charge first, so he could get a good idea on how the larger boy was moving around today. He still was limping a little from yesterday but didn't seem to be in any serious pain, or he would have refused the sudden rematch. Andrew reached his boss and thrust out with his small thick stick, intending to poke him in the gut and give him a minor bruise. Clive ducked when Andrew thrust and leant onto his right hand side, dropping to the ground. The stick whistled past his left ear and hit air, the little boy dodging the attack. Pushing with his legs now, Clive sprung back onto his feet and swept his own longer stick in a diagonal arc and smacked Andrew in the side, making a hit, but it still wasn't enough to make his enemy scream.

Pulling his arm back, Clive dropped down again and kicked out with his feet to try and know Andrew off balance, and he was about to succeed until Iyosuke jumped onto Clive's back and forced him onto the ground, pounding at the green-haired boy's back with his little wooden sword. Like a tiny twig that held a floodtide back and breaking, all the other little minors in the courtyard squealed gleefully and piled on top of their boss, covering him from head to tow in squirming little bodies. Andrew straightened up and just stood there, watching, before he chucked amusedly and rubbed the back of his neck with the smooth shaft of his weapon. He could hear Clive's muffled protests, and decided to ignore him. "I win." Andrew said mirthfully. "Actually, no, I tied. The kiddies won today, Sanga."

Manna was off giggling at the sidelines. "Poor little guy. What a way ta go." She said with a chuckle, brushing the tangles out of her hair at the same time with a comb. "Ah'm gonna take a walk to the orphanage today an' see if they'll take some 'o the little ones outta our hands. You know," She hesitated, in both her words and her actions, "They offered ta take me last time. I let 'im take little Ian instead. He needs it more than Ah do."

An arm thrust itself out of the kiddie pile-up and waved around wildly, as if it's owner was desperately searching for a way out. The digits on the hand were trembling from the pressure or maybe even a lack of oxygen. Grasping onto some kind of an idea, it began to gently pinch the kids on top of him, prompting them to let go and tumble away. Andrew turned around, shouldering his wooden stick. "Takin' care of babies is hard?" He asked, more of a question on Manna's capabilities than the act in general.

"Yeah. Ah'm only one girl, and we have two babes with us right now. They'se still be sleepin' at the moment, but they'll wake up soon." Manna shrugged. "The man at the grocers said that he'd give me a discount on milk 'cause he knows what we'se been doin' with them, an' Ah don't mind babysittin' all that much. Ah laike babes. But…" She looked down, scratching at her chin lightly. "Laike Ah said before, Ah'm only one girl. You an' Missanga ain't good babysittin' material, so's that leaves mostly me. Swanky's okay, he does get a few things mixed up sometimes, but he's better than nothin'. They'se laike Sanga the most, though."

"He's the most fun." Andrew agreed. "That's why."

Speaking of Clive, the little boy was pushing himself to his feet now with a few kids hanging off him, the rest having run away when Clive had taken the upper hand. Leaning on his wooden stick like a crutch, he shot a glance at Andrew and grinned. "Rematch, tomorrow." He said, loosening the small lacing of fingers around his neck, as Iyosuke was still handing there like an ineffective garrote. "An' no kids'll be able to save your butt this time."

"You're on." Andrew replied. "Maybe we can make it doubles? I'll take Manna, then."

"Nah, it won't work." Clive said, shaking his head. "Swanky won't play. He's no good at stick fighting anyways, even Manna can win against 'im. Plus, I dun' think he likes gettin' beat up all that much. So…" He changed his plans. "We'll do it singles and Manna and Swanks can be the cheerleaders. The winner gets… uh…" He checked his pockets for some kind of prize. "…My personal thumbs up?"

"But whut if you win?"

"Well, I just- …Ah dammit."

xxx

About an hour later, Ravendor burst out of his room, fully dressed, into the courtyard with a plain metal tin under one arm and a particularly detailed-looking model airplane in his other hand, held aloft as if to simulate high flight. He ran through the courtyard making plane, machine gun and missile noises, and nearly knocking over Clive who was playing dice with Andrew, their rivalry restricted to sparring matches only. They weren't gambling money yet because both of them were to young too figure out exactly how a dice game actually worked. For now, they were just predicting what number the two dice were going to show them. Andrew kept on getting snake eyes for some reason. Iyosuke was sitting in Manna's lap and squirming restlessly as she tried to brush his short and messy hair, but he leapt out of it when Ravendor paused in front of the two and clipped him over the head with the wing of his little model.

"War games! War games! Army men and airplanes!" Iyosuke called in a sing-song voice, unconsciously allowing his words to rhyme and snatching at the tin box under the other boy's arm. Ravendor pulled away just in time and Iyosuke ended up grabbing at air, making him lean forward too much and fall flat on his little face. He pushed himself up eagerly and took the older boy's hand for support, where he was then hauled easily to his feet.

"Want a history lesson?" Ravendor asked, fiddling with the small propeller at the front of his model now that Iyosuke was upright again. "We can stage the great demon war and I will show you just how it was played out." He passed the tin box to Iyosuke and it rattled slightly when it was moved, like there was a hundred pieces of something inside. It was a little heavy for Iyosuke's tiny hands, but he managed nevertheless. The little boy rattled the box again, delighting at the pleasant sounds it made. Grappling a bit with his stubby little fingers, he pried the lid off and tilted the box at one corner, the hundreds of different-coloured plastic army men moving like a small sea of tiny rifles and bodies.

Manna pulled a face. She didn't like war games very much and wandered off to take a walk. Play fighting was one thing, it was only hitting each other with sticks, but games like the ones that Ravendor enjoyed involved strategy and planning, and used in a war-like context, it was evil. Still, Iyosuke adored games like that and there was nothing she could do about it. Manna had a few gella in her pockets, she decided to go and buy some milk along the way of her walk. She felt like stretching her legs anyway.

Iyosuke and Ravendor set up in a clear patch of ground not too far away, close to where Clive and Andrew were playing. Every so often they could hear the sounds of Clive crying out; "Snake eyes!" and Andrew mildly swearing. Iyosuke giggled every time he heard Andrew lose. They sorted the factions out into three major colours for the demons, humans and Elw and left the other colours in the box, to be used as spares later on. The soldiers were frozen in their little individual positions, some standing up and saluting, guns at their side, others crouched down with their weapons ready to fire, or in mid-march, like in a parade. For such little models, they were very well made. Looking closely, Iyosuke could even see that a few of them bore facial expressions.

White was the colour of the humans, because white was apparently pure. Red was the colour of the demons, because red was an angry and bloody colour, and the Elws were given the colour yellow, because Ravendor had said that the Elws were 'yellow' to run away. With the arrangement of the platoons, the humans and the demons each took a side, and the Elws were the third party, sitting down in the middle and off to the side. There were many white soldiers, a good few red soldiers, but only a small handful of yellow ones. "I will be the humans, because I'm in charge." Ravendor told Iyosuke. "And you can be the Elws because you don't know nothing yet. Now… uh… Clive!" He turned to his younger brother, who was just sitting about while Andrew was trying to find some kind of fault with his dice. "Come over here and be the demons, alright?!"

"Aww, do I have to?!" Came the reply from the little boy. "They lose! Can't I be the- Oh fine, I'm coming. You'se two can't play the demons for all the gella in the world, can't ya?" Hopping to his feet, Clive skidded over to Ravendor and Iyosuke and plonked himself right between the two, accidentally knocking over a few army men in the process. Settling down and picking up a few of them, Clive isolated them and snickered. "These'll be my four special knights, one, two, three and four. Theyse'll be better than all the others, okay? In fact, theyse'll be my captains! Zeeky, Boomy, Harky an' Ally!"

"Those are the worst names I have ever heard in my life." Ravendor admitted with an odd look, then put his model airplane down next to his human soldiers. "Well, if you get special people then I should get special people too! This plane will be my big monster golem! His name is…uh…" He tried to dredge up a name but failed. "It doesn't matter what his name is, he will be my captain, and he's so strong, I will only need one of them! BAM!" Picking up his plane/golem, he smashed it into Clive's four demon captains. "Demons didn't have captains anyway!" Ravendor announced loudly. "They were like bees, not people! Gross little bugs!" Smiling self importantly, he added, "I know because I learnt it when I was tutored! That means that I'm right and you're wrong!"

"No!" Clive retaliated while glancing at his little soldiers hurtfully, like he was looking to them for advice. "That's a lie!"

"How do you know?!" Ravendor questioned him hotly.

"Because it is!"

While the two brothers were fighting, Iyosuke was quietly digging small holes in the dirt with a blunt little stick and burying all of Clive and Ravendor's men inside the trenches that he made, creating a small miniature graveyard. He was humming a happy little nursery rhyme while he did it, totally ignoring the argument nearby, because they had both failed to notice him as well. His little yellow toys were the smallest, but that didn't mean that he had to lose. Calmly, picking up Ravendor's model plane and looking to see if there was a tiny pilot inside, he vaguely wondered where Manna went.

xxx

"Looking Glass, Berlitz my good man. Looking Glass."

Berlitz was sitting in the richly furnished office of the most powerful and influential figure in all of Little Twister, generally conceived to be the man who owned Little Twister itself. He had been awaiting this appointment for nearly three whole days of unsure anxiety, and now that he was there, he ardently hoped that he could pull off the correct image required of him. The man he was currently listening to was both his patron and his sponsor for his work here, and in order to keep his archaeological grants flowing, he had to be cordial to those who required it most of all. It was not something that was difficult to do, for this man was formal yet pleasant, though young for his position. The archaeological community of Little Twister had fought hard to get Berlitz with him, so he had better say something soon. "The Looking Glass, sir?" He questioned, still being briefed on his next task at hand.

It had been a few days since Berlitz and his daughter had arrived eventfully in the dusty frontier town, and the old professor has already formed a short opinion on the land around him, though it was a particularly distasteful one. Kids ran about untamed like vicious little monsters, adults got into fights at the drop of a hat, at night, whores and thieves roamed the streets without fear, and everything seemed to be the very picture of a western-style Sodom or Gomorra. It was indeed very odd for Berlitz to believe that only a few days ago he had met a little boy who didn't seem to be affected by the visage of the town, and it was even harder to accept that fact that this place was nearly surrounded on all sides by places of ancient purity and worship, ruins of the arcane. Did they really exist? And what was this about a thing called the Looking Glass? Berlitz wanted to know.

A smile. "I believe that you may have heard about it before, considering your current vocation, Mr. Erdesparen. Yes indeed, the Looking Glass." The man seated behind the desk looked to be no older than twenty five years or so, with a rather slim build and pale bluish-white hair that was long and kept without any restraint, falling past his shoulders. His eyes were hidden behind thin glasses of a very expensive variety, cloaking his deep blue eyes. He was dressed in a dark olive green business suit that was plain yet well-made, and he wore flawless white gloves without a speck of dirt on them. He smiled, crossing his legs and allowing his feet to rest upon his thick and aged desk. "A very interesting place. You have quite a large reputation in the archaeological world, as you no doubt are aware of, but your actual experience at excavation is practically nonexistent. Some would call you an armchair researcher, I'm afraid, and that is where my problem lies." He took a brief pause, then reached for his pocket. "Do you mind if I smoke?" He asked.

"Do as you wish, Mr. Iscariot."

"Please, call me Alexander." The young man insisted genially, taking out his cigar case and removing one small, thin cigar. Snapping the case closed, he tucked it back into his front pocket without much thought. He lit it after a second and breathed in the thin, wispy smoke, then looked back at the older man sitting in front of him. "I don't trust many people in this world, Mr. Erdesparen," Alexander admitted to him, "There are a lot of individuals in this town that would laugh and cheer and clap if they ever heard news of my downfall. I know for a fact that there are powerful and… yes, I admit it, dangerous items in those ruins, and if they were to get into the wrong hands, well, you should have a good idea by now on what the people here are like. Would you trust them with anything remotely dangerous? I think not."

"I think you may be generalizing the population, but this is your town and not my own, so I suppose you have that right." Berlitz answered, making Alexander's smile become prouder. "I do wonder on why you commissioned somebody like myself, then, if you require one with practical excavation experience. I am an aging man, Mr. Iscariot, I am not as young or as fit as I used to be. I assure you that I will try my very best on all challenges that would face me, but I do believe that your faith would be better placed onto a younger group of researchers. The Crowley or Waite team would be more than capable of excavating this 'Looking Glass', that you speak of, and I think-"

"Ah, but there is the rub." Alexander proclaimed with some satisfaction, cutting Berlitz off rather curtly. "I do not trust any other in your profession, Mr. Erdesparen. Drifters can easily switch their title from archaeologist to treasure hunter and back, and if I do want these items to be removed and studied without them being misused, then I would require one who has never had any drifter experience before. You would seem to be that man. I feel that I can put my faith in you, because my father trusted you on many different occasions back when he was still alive." Blowing out some smoke, Alexander closed his eyes. "If I cannot trust my own dear father's judgement, then what else could I trust in this wide world of ours?"

Berlitz nodded knowingly. "I see where you are coming from. You make a good point." So he had been sent here not for his great practical archaeological expertise, but for the lack of it. Berlitz didn't really know what to think of that, whether it was a compliment or an insult or not. Alexander Iscariot was the biggest of the big cheeses this side of Filgaia, and just about anybody with their wits about them would jump at the chance to do him a bit of work. Berlitz's financial situation had just begun to hurt, so Alexander was like a godsend in human form. He had to think of Catherine too, and do whatever was best for her future. Sitting up a little straighter in his seat, Berlitz had to ask another question. "So you want me to visit and poke around the ruins called the 'Looking Glass', and bring back whatever treasure I can find? Will I be able to personally conduct a study of any item that piques my interest?"

"Naturally." Alexander replied readily. "It is what I would have asked for anyway, I can't have anything hidden away if I don't know what it is or what it does, can I? Owning an item simply for it's face value is the pursuit of idle pompous fools. But, enough about that. Let me get down into more technical and pressing terms." Stubbing out the lit end of his cigar, he left it in the ashtray by his elbow and laced his fingers together, briefly taking a quick sweeping look at all the immaculate wall paintings hung on his wall. "You're not a drifter. I'm not looking for a drifter, I'm looking for an archaeologist. But I can't send an archaeologist out to an unexplored ruin without any proper protection. As of this moment, I hire you, and you are one of my assets."

Berlitz blinked once. He didn't feel any different, but from now on his situation had definitely changed. Alexander placed a goodly sum of money on the desk, about a thousand gella's worth. "Take this and use a fraction of it to hire yourself some bodyguards, somebody that you can rely on. The rest is your commission. Make sure they have combat experience, just in case. I know that this is not much money in the ways of drifter-hire, but this is all that I am willing to place on the project for the time being. If this venture is successful, I will be inclined to pay more next time. I will give you a few days to get prepared, I am in no rush. When you feel ready, contact me again and I will give you further details on your mission."

"Aww, but I wanna hear them now." Said a tiny little voice, prompting both Berlitz and Alexander to look over to it's originator.

Catherine was sitting in a chair next to her father and was trying to be as quiet and as un-fidgety as a six year old could be, keeping her hands in her lap while swinging her legs off the side, dangling off the richly carpeted floor. She was still almost engulfed by the high-backed chair around her, reminding Berlitz vaguely of a pearl hiding in the depths of a giant clam. He didn't really want to bring her to this place or to his work, but he was loathe to simply let his little daughter run around the town all alone or bore herself to death in their inn room. Because there were no running daycare centers anywhere nearby, this was the only option he had. He believed that this wouldn't be too interesting for her, despite how easily she seemed to go along with it. She hadn't complained once.

Alexander smiled down at the little girl and she smiled back, listening to the grown-up talk with a quiet ear. Looking back to Berlitz, Alexander seemed satisfied with their discussion. He decided to give them what the little girl wanted to hear. It couldn't hurt, anyway. "Very well, then. Please pay attention." A pause, then another pleased smile. "Both of you. I have already sent a scout out to appraise the Looking Glass. His report," He picked up some papers from his desk and rustled them accordingly, marked with a coffee ring in one corner, "Leads me to believe that there is a slim to none monster population in that area, at least, in the areas that have been shallowly explored. I would still expect a random encounter or two, however. It is a pretty level place, with no upper or lower cavities discovered so far. That is about all I can tell you at the moment, the rest you will need to uncover for yourself. It is slightly northwest from town, about an hours travel on horseback with good weather. I shall have a map made up for you when you decide to go. Do you approve of this?"

Standing up from his seat, Berlitz reached out for the money and took it, nodding respectfully at his young patron. "It is satisfactory," He said, "Come on, Catherine. Let's go." The little girl slid out of her large chair and beamed happily at Alexander while taking her father's hand, glad that her daddy had been able to find himself some work. If the blue-haired man had given it to him, then he must have been a nice man as well. Leaning over from his desk, Alexander patted her gently on the head and then gestured to the open door, kindly asking them to leave, now that the meeting was over with. Berlitz didn't need to be told twice. He had gotten what he had come for, and that was that. Guiding Catherine away with him, he closed the door carefully and sighed.

So this commission will be unlike all the other ones I have undertaken before. It will be dangerous, and there will even be the threat of monster attack. I cannot take Catherine with me this time, it would be too dangerous for her. But, there are no day care centers in this town, and I cannot just leave her at the inn with nothing to do all the time… I do believe that I am in quite a pickle today…

Courteously nodding to the secretary outside, Berlitz made his way out of the large estate and back into the streets of upper-class Little Twister, walking slowly so that Catherine could keep up with him. The buildings here were rich and very beautiful in an architectural sense, but there were no people around, giving the place a very lonesome look about it. Things seemed to perk up a little when they crossed the train tracks to the more normal side of town, heading back towards their inn room. It was the older part of the morning right now, and the poorer areas of the town were alive with the hustle and bustle of everyday folk going about their business, living their own lives within Berlitz's own.

Yet I know that this so called 'Looking Glass' will be a very interesting venture. I wonder why it is called that? I suppose I shall find out soon enough. I will need to hire bodyguards, though, and good ones at that. But a thousand gella will barely be able to hire me three satisfactory guards, let alone all that and supplies. That Alexander fellow probably understands this too. He must be testing me. I know that he was kind and fair… but I don't know… I just do not like him…

"Daddy, that man was nice." Catherine informed him in her pure little opinion. "Is he gonna be your boss now? Are you going to go find old stuff for him? I like the stuff you bring home sometimes, they're pretty and smell funny." She was balancing herself on the very edge of the pavement and walking along it like how a tight rope walker travels along a thick taut length of twine, still holding onto her father's hand for support. Keeping her eyes forward, she was stable enough to continue. Taking note of something in front of her, her chain of thought was broken and switched over to something else. "Oh look, Daddy! A book store!" She paused, turning her gaze to it. "Can you get me a new storybook soon, Daddy? We can read it together, we can."

"Perhaps some other time." Berlitz replied distantly, still thinking about other things and gently pulling his daughter away from the store she was gawking at. "I need to find a few workers who don't mind working for a low wage." He said to himself out loud, rubbing his chin slightly in thought. "Bright ones that aren't greedy or lazy, too. Where on Filgaia will I find people like that?" Shrugging away his quiet ramblings, Berlitz silenced himself and spent the rest of the walk back to the inn in deep ponderous thought, trying to come up with an answer. And his questions about the Looking Glass still loomed ominously over his head, like an expectant storm cloud.

"Well, whut an' interesting sit-u-ation…" Said Manna calmly, sitting on the steps just outside the book store, a small picture book spread open in her lap, containing the basic ABCs. She had the book upside-down by mistake, but didn't notice this. "That's the pigeon from the other day, Ah think. Looks laike he's in a bit of a mess. Ah'd betta give 'im mah support." She turned a page in her book over, looked at it, then closed the book entirely and stood up, taking into her arms the small quart of milk she had bought as well. "Those bums could do with a bit 'o work, anyhow."

Turning, Manna walked back home.

xxx

Iyosuke had his eyes closed, his hands over his face. He had been told to do this every time Manna was about to let off some steam. When she had returned, she had firstly seen Ravendor trying to noogie and strangle Clive to death, while the younger green-haired child had sunk his teeth into Ravendor's arm and was gnawing as hard as he possibly could, elbowing him in the stomach at the same time. Andrew was standing next to Iyosuke, just watching and trying not to get involved. He had the right idea, Iyosuke thought. To his eyes, Iyosuke thought that Clive and Ravendor were just a pair of silly-billies. Without sight, all Iyosuke could hear was the voices now.

"Whut in tarnation are you'se two doin'?!"

"Well, we was-"

"S'not my fault, it was his! Clive started it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"I 'dun' care who started it, y'all comin' with me now!" A pause, then twin shouts of pain. "You too, Mongo!"

"Wha? But I didn't do nothin- Ow! Owowowowowowow… alright already! Geez…"

Iyosuke heard the sound of dragging now, followed by the scuffy noises of somebody trying to keep up with said dragging. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to look now, so he waited until he couldn't hear anything anymore, then removed his hands away from his eyes. He was alone in the courtyard, the little model plane sitting in his lap. Looking around, he deduced that the rest of his friends must have gone inside.

Getting clumsily to his feet, he ran off to show the rest of the younger children the little treasure that he had found.

xxx

Berlitz was seated in a comfortable wicker chair outside the inn, sipping a cup of morning tea with a newspaper folded in his lap. He felt content to spend the rest of the day with Catherine, who was sitting on the edge of it's wooden verandah, her hands grasping the pine railing. There was a soft breeze blowing and it fluttered the ribbons in her hair, making the little girl hold them back delicately, enjoying the soft caress of the wind on her face. A tumbleweed blew past, rolling gaily down the street with it's own hidden agenda. The sign above her head swung slightly too, the chipped words 'Crossfire Inn' losing a bit more of it's paint. Catherine felt like playing, but she didn't have anyone to play with, which made her day considerably more boring than others that she could recall. Turning her head a little, she looked down the street and blinked. Some people were approaching, and it mostly seemed to be against their will.

"Oh Mr. Sir!"

Manna walked as purposefully as an eight year old could, dragging both Black Shuck brothers with her with each hand, Andrew trailing behind her with a look if mild confusion on his face. The young Baskar girl was stretching her mouth with a wide grin, painted there to hide her other emotions. Clive and Ravendor could have easily torn themselves away from her and run away, but that would have meant that they would still have to face her never-ending wrath later on, and besides, they were mildly intrigued themselves. She had never punished them like this before. Sidling up to the wooden verandah that Berlitz and Catherine were sitting on, Manna let go of them and forced them to line up with Andrew, and now they were facing the old professor and standing at attention, like a small trinity of soldiers.

"Hmm, what's this?" Berlitz asked, putting his cup of tea down and his paper away, standing up in the presence of a lady, even if it was a very small one. The three boys standing there glanced away bashfully when Berlitz took note of them, feeling uncomfortable and having to stand there in the full view of somebody that they had tried to swindle. It was like they had all been caught in the midst of some kind of horrible act. Even though Manna was just as guilty as the others were, she didn't seem to show this at all. Berlitz looked confused, so Manna decided to explain.

"Mr. Sir," The little girl said politely, "Ah overheard that you need people that don't get paid much for your work, an' Ah think that these three fellers'll lend you a hand for minimum wage. They're bums, ya see. They need to work soon or they'll be bums forevah." She smiled at Berlitz cutely and clasped her pudgy little hands together. "Mongo's good at lifting things an' Missanga's really quick and fast, like a jackrabbit. Swanky can do a bit 'o both, and he don't complain neither. They'se be good boys, Ah reckon." Getting the gist of what Manna was talking about, Ravendor bowed on reflex. Andrew followed him clumsily a few seconds later and Clive turned to regard them confusedly, until Ravendor kicked him in the ankle and forced Clive to bow and do the same. The green-haired boy felt stupid, but went along with it anyway.

Catherine made a mental connection and pointed at Clive accusingly. "I remember you! You're that nasty thief!" She proclaimed loudly, not with any anger or dislike, just with simple recognition of his face. Clive looked up for a second and stuck his tongue out at her, but Ravendor kicked him again and he went back to his submissive stance once more. Berlitz recognised him too and scratched his chin, in thought. Even if Alexander had assured him that there were no monsters in the ruin, he didn't want to bring along with him children that had no experience with matters like this. They appeared to be young too, none of them seemed any older than ten years of age. He was desperate for help, but not that desperate just yet. Putting children in danger was not an idea he savored with any particular relish. But still, he couldn't refuse the little girl outright, especially when she seemed so dead set in her idea. Maybe he could improvise, perhaps? He did want to know how she had 'overheard' him, however.

"That is a kind offer, uh…" Berlitz asked her name and she gave it readily, "Manna? Oh, yes. That is a kind offer, Manna, but I do not want to be responsible for children in the place that I will be going. You see, I do grown up work, and I need other grown ups to do the work with me. Not children. I am sorry, my dear. I can't take them with me." He remembered his thoughts on compromise and added, gesturing to Andrew, "That big lad, perhaps, if he is as strong as he looks," He said, "But young Clive would be too little to be of use, and if a monster attacks, he would be in too much danger." Berlitz switched his focus to Ravendor. "And it would not be befitting of me to take a young lady to such a dangerous place."

After Berlitz's speech, something in the three boys seemed to go off, like a responsive trigger. Andrew just smiled dumbly, but Clive's face went bright red with indignation, and Ravendor brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on the joint of his index finger, trying to keep his ire inside around the adults. Manna looked at them, to see what they would do.

"Little?!" Clive cried angrily, straightening up from his bow. "I ain't too little! I can fight monsters, I've fought a ton of them before an' I even won! Just because Mongo's bigger than me doesn't mean that he's better!" A fire rose up in the little boy's heart, and Clive realised that no matter where the old professor was going now, he knew that he had to go too. His pride couldn't take anything other than that. If Berlitz was going to hire his subordinates, then he had better hire him as well. Clive knew that he was just as useful as the other two, if not more so. His hand went to grip his missanga anyway, something he did when he was agitated. "I'm good luck! I'm Missanga! Take me along and I'll bring you good luck, I swear!"

"… I'm a boy." Ravendor deadpanned with concealed anger, keeping his gaze at the ground. "Remember me? We met a few days ago in the marketplace. I am not a girl."

Andrew scratched the back of his head, slightly flattered for meeting Berlitz's standards. "Gee, if the pay's decent I'll give it a try." He chuckled. "But give the boss a break, he's tellin' the truth, ya know. He can pull the ears off an orc if he tries hard enough. An' Swanks looks like a girl but he ain't no girl, if you get my meaning. He knows his letters as well, if that helps any. He has a formal ed-du-ma-cation."

"I can read and write some words, as long as they are not too big." Ravendor said proudly, as if it was all the explanation and credentials he needed in the world.

"They'se be good boys." Manna repeated, then threw in her own part of the bargain. "An when y'all are out 'o town, Ah can play with your girlie so's she has someone to talk to, okay? Ah can plainly see that she's got nuthin' else ta do. You'se been worryin' that she'll get lost an' in trouble in this here town? Ah'll keep her outta harm's way. You can trust me, 'cause you'll be keepin' my boys with you as… as…"

"Collateral." Ravendor finished for her.

"Yeah, whut he said." Manna agreed with a smile.

"How did you…" Berlitz began, about to voice his confusion out loud but then decided to give up. He had to admit, the children in this town seemed to be smarter than others, and far more cunning to boot. And, he reasoned with himself, if they had gotten this far without adult supervision, then they must have a good idea on what they were doing. The three boys had looked reluctant when they first got there, but now they seemed quite eager, determined to fight for the little amount of pride that they had. Berlitz sighed, his resolve wavering. "This will not be a cake walk." He admitted. "It will be a dangerous ruin excavation with a chance of monsters. Do you understand?"

Clive laughed. "A ruin? That's all? You're all worked up over one dinky little ruin? Hell, Swanks an' I play up there all the time in most of 'em. Ain't that right Swanky?" Ravendor grinned and nodded. "Yeah. Maybe we'se can be more useful than some 'o the other guys that you could'a hired. We'll ask for…" The three boys all exchanged a glance, almost seeming to be communicating telepathically. "Fifty gella each. Better than the best offer, no?"

Berlitz couldn't deny it, it was a damn good deal. Even the cheapest adult would have asked for at least three hundred gella, and with this, he'd be able to get some decent equipment as well. Yes, maybe it would be best to… No! He couldn't walk into a dangerous place flanked by children! What was he thinking?!

He'd hire one drifter to come with them, at least then things would even out.

"…Alright." Berlitz conceded, defeated. "Come back here in one week's time to go. We will be heading for the Looking Glass. I accept."